Freedom
by IdleWit
Summary: A little thoughtful drabble with Jack and a few character. Along the same lines as my story Never.


**Freedom **

"_Where we will, we'll roam." _

**I. Where we…**

"Don't you ever want to sail again love?" he asks Lizzy on one of his rare visits as she watches young James with awed eyes and he watches her with confused ones. "Be free for a bit?"

She turns to him and her eyes sparkle as her lips turn up in that smile she always gives that little thoughtless bird.

"Free from what Jack?" always curious.

"From this," he gestures around them. At the little coastal town she lives by, at her small cottage on top of the cliff over looking the sea, at the white sandy beach they were sitting on and James was creating castles in.

"From what Jack?" she persists, looks around to what she sees as beauty and what Jack sees as chains.

"From this small bloody village."

"It's small but it doesn't' lack variety."

"From this pokey bloody cottage."

"It's comfortable, not pokey."

"From bloody life consuming mother hood then."

With this she throws back her head and laughs merrily at him, with each note sounding like falling coins he never could quite catch, no matter how far he reached.

"And what do you propose I do with Jamey if I say yes?"

Jack shrugs, waves her son away vaguely to the place where all his other problematic obstacles go. That moment, that pause as her eyes contemplated it and shone with passion, told Jack all he needed to know.

"Oh Jack," she smiles now, shaking the moment away, and she seems so much wiser now, but Jack does not envy her that. "Imagine if _your_ mother had said yes if someone asked her that!"

Jack scowls, they had and she had, but he does not say so.

"But you're not my mother are you Lizzie?" his only reply.

Elizabeth sighs, watches his thoughtful expression.

"Jack, this, all of it, I care for it."

"Even motherhood?" a glance at the annoying chit.

"_Especially_ mother hood."

"Don't know how you can stand it," he answers trying to be blithe.

"I _love_ it Jack."

"There chains," said in disturbance, trying to understand, but never being able to.

"There not chains to _me_…" she notices his perturbed and slightly disappointed look. "Maybe sometime in the future Jack, when Will gets back, we'll sail again with you…But not because I need freedom," added quickly at his triumphant look. "I'm where I belong. I'm already perfectly free."

She wouldn't and she wasn't.

"I don't believe you," said with a knowing grin.

"Why Jack, because you love freedom so much?"

"No because you love love _too_ much."

She doesn't answer to this, but they both know it is true.

She gave him an unspoken yes to his question when she pursued the conversation.

But she is chained by bloody love, and so he says no more.

He just grins and proceeds to tell her and the boy about how he learnt to fly.

The truth is no one is ever free. Jack knew it was true, yet he still liked to tell himself and everyone else the tale.

**II. Will…**

"Don't you ever want to step on land again mate?" He meets up with Will a few years later, the boy is still pining after Elizabeth as always. And their both watching the ocean, Will with commitment and Jack with capriciousness. "Be free for a bit?"

Will turns to him and his eyes show that wry laughter, and his lips turn up into that perplexed state between amusement and befuddlement of that fool of a bird's sanity.

"Free from what Jack?" Always blunt.

"From this," he gestures around them at the boat which will never wash away the blood, at the forever dreary crew, and at his scar.

"From what Jack," he persists looking around to what he sees as duty and what Jack sees as shackles.

"From this delapidated bloody ship."

"I've fixed it up, and it's sturdy now."

"From this bloody great responsibility."

"Someone must do it Jack, and it is fulfilling on occasions."

"From this bloody heartless life."

With this Will smiles, always the steady and calm one, his serene eyes were at a place Jack could never seem to reach no matter how many leagues he sailed.

"I_ have_ a heart Jack, and it's where it belongs."

"Besides," after a pause, "What do you suppose I do with, the responsibility placed upon my shoulders if I say yes?"

Jack shrugged, waved responsibilities away carelessly with a hand filled with rum, to where all his problematic obstacles went. That moment, that pause when Will's eyes filled with longing, told Jack all he needed to know.

"It's impossible," Will shook his head in earnestness, shaking the moment away. "Imagine if our King ignored his duty just to follow his desire."

Jack grinned, he had and he did, but he does not say so.

"But you're not the king are you Will?" his only reply.

Will laughs, watches his thoughtful expression.

"Jack, this, I…I enjoy it in a way."

"Even being away from your bonny lass?" he looks at him slyly from under his thick lashes.

"I will be with her soon," Will say steadily.

"'Don't know how you can stand it," attempts to be casual.

"It's my duty, a good duty."

"This, all of it, is shackles mate," not understanding one bit.

"I don't feel shackled Jack," he notices the pirate's rather troubled look. "Perhaps once my duty is done, I'll visit you on land sometime, in Tortuga….But I'm not looking for freedom Jack…my heart is with Elizabeth. I _am_ free"

He wouldn't and he wasn't.

"I don't believe you," said with a knowing smile.

"Why Jack, because _you_ love freedom so much?"

"No, because you love duty _too _much."

He says nothing to this but they both know it is true.

He gave him an unspoken yes to his question when he pursued the conversation.

But he is chained by bloody duty, and so he says no more.

He just grins and proceeds to tell him about the new song Lizzy taught him when they last met.

The truth is no one is ever free. Jack knew it was true, yet he still liked to sing to himself and everyone else the song.

**II. We'll…**

"Don't you ever want to fight again mate, like we used to?" he asks Barbossa as they sit in a bar and toast, Barbossa is drunk and inclined to pour out a bit more of his soul then usual. "Be free for a bit?"

Barbossa looks at him and his lips turn up into that toothy smirk and his eyes shine with scorn at that idiot bird's nature.

"Free from what Jack?" he drawls in his rough way and uncaring way.

"From this," he gestures around them at the drunken patrons, at the stinking tavern, at the women and men who have long ago buried their souls in order to survive in the world.

"From what Jack?" and this time he snarls angrily, looking to what he sees as living and what Jack sees as a prison.

"From all this frivolous bloody spending."

"Why, I wouldn't call it frivolous. "said with a suggestive smirk.

"From this bloody squalor."

"It can be mighty fine some nights, depending on the company you hardly notice."

"From this pointless bloody life."

With this Barbossa gives a loud Argghh, and his expression shows more life in it then Jack can seem to stir in himself at the moment, no matter how many battles he fought.

"Thinking of relieving me of my life are ye Jack?" Barossa asks suspiciously his hand on the hilt of his cutlass.

There is a pause as Jack ignores his question and merely looks down into the depths of his mug, and Barbossa slowly relaxes, inspecting his old nemesis more carefully.

"Besides Jack," he intoned, "What else do you propose I do with me life if I said yes?"

Jack shrugged, waved purpose away carelessly with a hand filled with rum, to where all his problematic obstacles went. That moment, that pause when Barbossa's eyes showed uncertainty, told Jack all he needed to know.

"Were pirates, this is what pirates do," Barbossa drinks the moment away. "Besides, imagine if the Greek God Dionysus had stopped playing his flute because he got tired of dancing his life away.

Jack laughs, he had and he did, but he did not say so.

"But you're not Dionysus are you Barbossa?" his only reply.

Barbossa growls at this, and then notices Jack's thoughtful expression.

"It's a good life Jack."

"Even when you can't see an end to it?"

"That's what makes it fun."

"Don't know how you can stand it," he answers pretending to be relaxed.

"It's life."

"This, all of it, is a prison mate," doubting he'll ever understand.

"It doesn't look like a prison to me Jack," he notices Jack's unsettled look, "Perhaps after were done here, if your really thirsting after blood though the Lord knows why seeing as we have enough jewels to last us for months. Perhaps then we can go find some ship with a cargo hold bursting with swag and have a good fight…But I ain't looking for freedom Jack, I got everything I need right here."

They wouldn't and he wasn't.

"I don't believe you," said with an infuriating laugh.

"Why because_ you_ love freedom so much?"

"No, because you love life _too _much."

He is quiet at this, but they both know it is true.

He gave him an unspoken yes to his question when he pursued the conversation.

But he is chained by bloody life, and so he says no more.

He just grins and proceeds to tell him about the time he stole Poseidon's trident.

The truth is no one is ever free. Jack knew it was true, yet he still liked to recount to himself and everyone else the legend.

**III. Roam…**

"Don't you ever want to be a child again Jack?" he asks himself in the mirror as he looks through drunken eyes at his own reflection. When he gets drunk, so drunk he can hardly remember his name, he becomes pensive and this was one of those moments. "Be free for a bit?"

Then he throws back his head and chuckles at that mad bird that knew nothing.

Finally when he is left looking at that bedraggled reflection he turns away from it.

He sighs, slumping down in the chair behind his table. A sudden screech startles him and turning his head he sees the monkey perched on his desk and watching him with a cocked head and wide eyes.

"Free from what your asking aren't you, you bloody fur ball," Jack muttered glaring at the monkey suspiciously.

"Well free from…" he takes a swig of rum to help him, and sits and stares at the wall, wondering what he had to be free from. "From life, and love and hate and fate and all the things that make you great." The rhyme slipped from his mouth, he was sure it was part of some children's rhyme but he didn't seem to be able to remember which one.

Then he laughed again, a hollow laugh, because he didn't seem to remember a lot any more.

"The edges of the map are closing in," he slurred looking at the monkey with eyes twinkling with hollow amusement. "It's what Beckett told me…or maybe Will told me he said told him…leasways perhaps he's right there. The world's getting too small now. And ain't no room for freedom no more…but maybe there never was…sometimes I think that …here"

With that he stretched out his hand to the monkey and poured some rum for him into his mouth. The monkey opened his maws wide to receive the drink.

"Lets have a toast," he cried, "To all the slaves in the world, and to the man that invented slavery, whether it be external, or in our very own minds."

His sleeve had fallen back, to show his brand, and he quickly snapped his hand back as if he had been burned. He held the rum bottle close to his chest cradling it as if he was afraid the monkey was going to steal it.

He ignored the angrily chattering creature. "Mine, mine, mine," he said to himself, closing his eyes tight, as if to remind himself of what he had, "A ship, a crew, a hold filled with rum. What more can a man want…what more…? Cept I can't I never did steal Poseidon's trident, and I never did learn that song not properly…and I certainly never could fly….And that's what sailings bout, roaming wherever you want to go, but I can't, not really because I just can't seem to fly…"

The monkey stared at Jack, and Jack laughed again as he realized who he was talking to.

"The truth is I don't love anything, cause I can't seem to. Duty is too much like chains, life is a prison and having a child…" he shudders at the thought, "It makes me want to run and never stop… And freedom…Freedom isn't real, But they…none of them seem to understand that…just you and me ol Jack, just you and me… Maybe I'll tell em one day…"

He grows silent at this, because he wouldn't and he couldn't.

They all had answered yes, all had conversed with him when he asked the question, all tried to justify that they didn't need freedom, because they already had it. They thought he had it. He didn't, but he would never tell them that. A person had to believe in something in this world or go insane.

"Maybe being insane is when were really free," he mutters to himself, but then again he should have been free a long time ago if what everyone tells him is true. Then again everyone always lied, and it wasn't good to trust anyone in the world, cept yourself, and even that was risky.

"Then again, maybe trust is freedom," but he knew it was not and he was silent for a while.

He steals a glance at the monkey, who is still staring at him.

"You think I'll never be free I know you do, you don't believe me," he keeps the conversation going although he knows it is silly, because he feels lonely and empty and needs something to say.

"Why because_ I_ love freedom so much.,."

"No because I love nothing too much"

He is quiet at this, and he doesn't know if it is true, doesn't know if anything is true.

This, everything about Jack bloody Sparrow, was a cage.

He was caged by bloody reason, by bloody experience which denied him freedom.

And if he admitted it, he would give up on a dream, so he says no more.

He just laughs at himself, shakes off his mood and proceeds to tell Jack the monkey about the time he flew.

The truth is no one is ever free. Jack knew it was true, yet he still liked to tell himself and everyone else the lie.

* * *

**If you like this story read my drabble Never in my Hoist the Colours story. Please review**

**Sairra : P**


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